


Palmistry

by friedhotsauce



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friedhotsauce/pseuds/friedhotsauce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't supposed to matter. It was only superstition after all. But in the end, it did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Palmistry

It wasn't meant to be

Taken seriously

It was for fun

He was bored

Thought he'd try and

Impress Sherlock

With superstitious knowledge

 

Sherlock has beautiful hands

They are an impressive size

And texture

Soft titanium

Sometimes John liked to imagine

The detective being able to 

Turn a whole forest

Upside down

Just by plucking

A single blade of grass

Between ivory-tusk fingers

Alike to how

He was able to

Make John's gut 

Turn on its axis

With his footsteps

 

Palm lines like the trails

Shooting stars leave behind

Hard to spot at first

But a wondrous thing

When you finally see them

 

John squints

And licks his lips

This game requires

Immense concentration

Life line first

 

John stutters a nervous laugh

"What's so funny?" Sherlock asks.

"Nothing- well something, you see your lifeline, it's strange."

"Strange?"

"Its really, um, short."

"Oh."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"No."

 

He is enraged

Yet comforted

The absence of urgency 

In Sherlock's voice is 

Normal and expected

The detective is 

A tempered hero

 

"Does it bother you?" Sherlock inquires back.

"Who me? No, no it doesn't." 

John's mind reels fast

Like an out of control ferris wheel

The ex-soldier is scared for his beloved detective

He thinks about grabbing a pen

So that they can play pretend

But the dust storm Mrs. Hudson forgot to clean up

Captures John in a net of attention

 

  
_Stop and smell the roses Johnny_ , the dancing particles seem to say

A conclusive conclusion

Yes, he decides he will

Cherish whatever moments he and his 

Rose of 

Pale petals

Darkly stoic stem

And soft titanium thorns 

Share from now on

 

I suppose it will come as an

Awful, delightful, perhaps even gorgeous

Surprise

When John Watson learns

That his own lifeline 

Is just as long

Is just as short

As Sherlock's

 

 


End file.
